Easter Poem

Thank you, my family,
for teaching me to pray.
Thanks for baptising me,
so that I could receive
the gift of the Holy Ghost,
that guides me on my way.

I quit listening
to that still,small voice.
I was lost.

Things became dark and wicked.
clearly the wrong choice.
As I laid in my deep, dark muddy hole
I remembered Jesus.
I can't imagine how he took on
all of our sins,
but he did.

I didn't feel worthy.
I trembled in fear.
I whispered a prayer.
He reached out his hand
and pulled me near.

He held me near and comforted me.
It didn't seem fair
for him to suffer as he did and die
for us sinners.
His love was that strong.

Little People

Looking from above,
we look like llittle people
that scurry around our world
that we have built, grown and decorated.
millions of us
tripping over each other
trying to make things better.

We pass from this world
one at a time
and we weep with every passing.
We leave an empty space
that with time fills in.

Poverty

Have you ever stood in line at the food bank?
Wore holy shirts and shoes.
Not had anything to wear while you wash your pants
Searched the dumpster for dinner
Slept where ever because the shelter was full.
Because the rich need a tax break and now
They are trying to make money
Off the disabled.
It's a sin
And it makes me sick.

My Big Brother

"Don't mess with me.  I've got a big brother who is 6 feet tall and he's strong."  I always bragged about Bill.  He used to chase me through the house.  Once I ran into his bedroom.  I went in backwards.  I meant to fall back on his bed.  I didn't know he had moved his bed.  The floor was cement and it hurt when I hit my head.

I was playing badmitton with him one day.  He picked up a frog and put it on his racket.  Swinging the racket he sent the frog flying towards me.  I quickly swung my racket at the frog.  When the frog hit my racket, it went all to pieces.  Bill screamed at me,"You weren't supposed to hit him.  You killed him."  "Oh no," I cried  "I'm a murderer."

When I was 7 years old, Bill was teasing me with a paddle ball.  He was trying to hit me with the ball.  I was wiggling around on the couch.  Someone had left a kitchen knife on the couch.  It went into my leg.  I felt some pain, but I didn't realize I was hurt until I saw the blood.  "You stabbed me!"I yelled.  Bill quickly put a tourniquet on my leg.  He learned how to do that in boy scouts.  He felt terrible.  I stayed mad at him for a long time, but later realized that it was an accident.  I forgave him a long time ago.

Humor

When my insides were jumping
A rapid heart beat that wanted
To blow up my rib cage.

I wanted to poke a hole
In my crampy belly
To release the pressure.
When my head was ordering me
To die.

I expected you to talk softly
of peace and calmness.
Instead you found humor in my circumstance.
As we laughed at funny stories,
Both she and I recited.
I realized that the anxiety was gone.
RELIEF!

Stories

We all have our stories
Our little glimpses of our life.
We tell them over and over again.
Different stories, different people.
Stories of love, hate, adventure,
Stupidity and ingenious.
Are my stories any better than yours?
Do we just tell more people?
Is the way we present them more interesting?
Do people pretend to like them
Out of courtesy.
Are they scarey or funny or exciting?
Or are they just plain boring?

Having Babies

If I had a baby,
what would it look like?
Boy or girl,
light hair or dark hair.
Would it look like me?
What would I name it?

I have wondered these things
since I was 11 years old.
I didn't understand
how the baby would
grow in it's mother's belly.
I thought that Heavenly Father put it there
when a woman got married.

I am in my sixties.
I have a womb
that has always been empty.
I could feel bad for never having
the experience of giving birth,
but when I look back on my life,
clouded by mental illness.
I couldn't raise a baby.
It wouldn't be fair
to the innocent child.